


my catastrophe

by 5homosonstairs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, like serious trigger warning, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5homosonstairs/pseuds/5homosonstairs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is suffering from major depression and manic episodes and the only things holding him together are his boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me is ashamed of this. Part of me kind of loves this. I hate to see Louis suffer. I don't know why I did it. I promise it all works out. I wrote this in maybe an hour. I just had to get something written, and this was the first thing to spew out from my mind. I hope it's okay.
> 
> Title from Kitchen Sink by twenty one pilots, which is what I listened to on repeat while I wrote this. If you don't listen to them, you're seriously missing out.
> 
> General disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of the boys. This never happened. At least I really hope it didn't, because I can't handle the thoughts of Louis being hurt in any way. (I just really love Louis, okay? I don't know why I did this to him, oh god.)

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the tears that were flowing down his cheeks as he pressed the blade into the skin of is left arm, shaking horribly. He started crying harder before he could open the skin. There was just an indent where he pressed the blade down. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to do it. He did. It had been so long, and he desperately wanted to get better. He had no idea why all of a sudden he just had the horrible urge to just watch himself bleed. He had no fucking clue when it had become this hard. 

When had it become this hard to breathe? When had it become this hard to function? Louis didn’t know the answer anymore. 

In the eyes of the fans, he was this happy go lucky performer who was happy. He had a girlfriend. He had money. He had everything that everybody else in the world wanted. He literally had it all.

In his mind, it didn’t matter. None of the fame mattered. None of the money. Not the girls who threw themselves at him. Not even the guys who threw themselves at him, offering to treat him “better than any man or woman could ever treat” him. 

All that mattered was what was inside of him. The only thing that mattered was the hate brewing up inside of his bones, bubbling up outside of his muscles, oozing out to the edge of his flesh, just begging to be released. He found that release in the form of a blade to his arms, his thighs, and his stomach.

The first time one of the other boys in the band found him, he sobbed hysterically with a wet washcloth pressed to his arm to stop the bleeding. Louis was cradled in the strong and familiar arms of Liam. Liam was panicking and holding Louis as tightly to his chest as humanly possible, keeping the cloth pressed on him. Liam honestly thought Louis was dying; he had never seen that much blood come out of someone with his own eyes. Louis had never felt more alive. He had never felt more real.

The second time was after he had smoked a celebratory post-show joint with Zayn in a hotel room in Barcelona. Something snapped inside of his brain. He felt things crawling on the outside of his thighs that he just had to get out. Louis was sitting on the bathroom floor against the wall with his shaving razor in his trembling hand, just watching his own muscles move under his skin as he flexed. The knocking on the door brought him back to reality. As Zayn entered the room to check on the older boy, he saw the razor and immediately flung himself at Louis, screaming things that Louis cannot remember to this day. Something about how he was worth more than that and how he was never smoking again.

The third time, Louis’ mind and skin were screaming, begging for some activity, as he lay on his back in his small bunk on the bus. He pounded his fist on the wall to his left before clawing at his hair with his blunt nails. It was Niall who came running when he heard the banging. He climbed into Louis’ bunk and cradled the other boy in his arms, promising to never let him fall under the spell of his own mind ever again. And he did just that.

Now we come to the most recent time. There was a pounding on the door as Louis just stared at the indent he had caused on himself. He had been clean for so long, that’s why he was as frightened as he was. He had been clean for three months, the longest time in a long time. The pounding kept ringing through the small bathroom in the venue. There was screaming about the bus about to leave without Louis. Part of him was okay with that. Maybe if the bus was gone, he would be able to go through with his task.

The pounding stopped and Louis was part grateful, part frightened again. What if they did leave without him? Did he really want that? He didn’t exactly know what he wanted right now, other than to finally open his skin again. He raised the blade to a different section of skin, over some faded scars from his teenage years, and he bore down on himself. 

The door swung open at that time. Louis didn’t realize that the pounding actually hadn’t stopped. He was just able to drown it out. His right hand was grabbed, flinging the blade against the wall as his grip loosened. His hearing came back and he was able to hear the frantic questioning of Harry. He could hardly see the boy’s face through his tears, but he could tell that they were now both crying together because of the heaving of Harry’s chest and the trembling of his left hand as it gripped Louis’ right wrist. 

Louis was grabbed into a bear hug, and he couldn’t breathe. Everything was post-concert sweat and tears mixing together. He pushed Harry away from him and turned just fast enough to dry heave into the toilet. All Louis wanted was to be better. He was so close to failing. He was afraid of himself. He felt a warm hand in between his shoulder blades, rubbing soothingly as he leaned over the toilet. 

It didn’t take long for Eleanor to learn of Louis’ manic episodes. She tried her best to stick by him, but the distance between them made it too hard for her. She was constantly worried that something would happen and all of a sudden she would no longer have a boyfriend. She wanted to be there for Louis all the time, but she just couldn’t take the stress of his episodes anymore. Louis understood completely when she flew out to their show in Paris just to tell him that. He hugged her while she cried and she made him promise that he’d be okay. She promised that she would always be there for him, no matter what.

It took forever. Literally forever, or at least it seemed like forever when you’re constantly being watched by the world. They managed to continue their shows, and Louis managed to keep a smile on his face. 

Liam took Louis surfing when they were anywhere that had a beach and taught Louis to work out to ease his frustrations.

Zayn taught Louis how to draw and in turn, Louis taught Zayn a little bit of the piano. They frequently went out to get small tattoos with one another as well.

Niall constantly made Louis laugh on and off stage, no matter what. He also was completely willing to always kick a football around whenever they had the opportunity.

Harry held Louis while he cried in his sleep and rubbed his back as he threw his anxieties into the toilet after days that were especially hard.

It was a long process, but soon it all got better. Louis was able to smile easily again. All of the boys had noticed when Louis got that gleam back in his eyes. He was the same mischievous eighteen-year-old boy they had met so many years ago. He was torturing the event staff at venues and playing pranks on Paul, Caroline, and Lou. He dyed a strand of Niall’s hair turquoise while he slept because he thought it matched the younger boys’ hair, which it did, and Niall wore it proudly while on stage for the next few days after until Lou bleached his hair again.

It took forever, but Louis was grateful. Without his boys, he had no idea where he would be. He didn’t know if he would be lying in a gutter somewhere, drunk off his ass because being drunk was better than being sober, or if he would be buried six feet under.

Now the could-have-beens don’t matter, because he is finally happy and satisfied and he has his boys in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to talk to me, my tumblr is sincerelytommo.tumblr.com. I am always here for anyone if they ever need anything. Don't hesitate to come to me with any problem at all. Thank you for reading. xx


End file.
